Jerukh stands listening, then his brow furrows as he hears the interplay.
The augmented alchemist gruffly adds his own wisdom from his post:
"The wickness of some umírající makes them happy. This much I know... I say again ware her words..."
"Oh!Iliketomakeart!Sculpturestha-" she begins to say but then cuts herself off.
"I love to make sculptures that look alive, as if they are frozen in time," she says, slowing her words down to an almost normal persons speaking rate.
As he hears Soliana tell that the fey actually tortured things and makes art and trophies of them, the brute alchemist growls in pain and anger;
"Torture... So much pain... All to appease a creature's evil whims... It is against everything we hold dear..."
Emi listens uncomfortably to all the talk of fey and their wickedness.
I wonder what they would all think of me if they knew I was connected somehow to the first world, that I might even have the blood of faeries in my veins... I can’t hardly defend this wicked creature though...
”Do vhat needs to be done...” she offers with grim resolution, before sheepishly adding, ”but remember that not all fey are vicked...”
As it becomes clear that her survival is at stake, Buttersnips begins to struggle against her bonds.
"Nononononono!Icanchange!Icanbegood!Ipromise!"
Oh Cayden's balls, now she's going to say whatever she thinks will save her life.
Vigny closes her eyes for a moment and sighs. Then she kneels down to look closely into the fey woman's eyes.
"Why could we ever believe you? You're life is at stake right now. But as soon as it wasn't anymore, what would really change? You're asking us to bet the lives of the people who cross your path in the future that you would be different. How can we do that?"
Vigny clenches her jaw, looking for determination.
"Soli knows what you've done. You've heard how many people do what you're doing now? People who begged you not to butcher them while you did the horrible things you call 'art' to them. You never stopped did you? What did they say to you? What did you think and feel when they pleaded? Tell me. I want to know."
talking to it is a mistake... I can't watch this...
"I vill stand guard outside," Emi announces as she steps out the door, "in case anything else comes for us... try not to take too long... ve need to keep mofing."
Buttersnips quickly goes from begging to hurling curses and spitting venom back at the companions.
Vigny stands back up and sighs again. "I was hoping for something else."
She takes her sword in both hands and drives it through the fey woman's chest.
With a final gasp, Buttersnips falls silent.
Once it's clear the fey woman is dead, Vigny is eager to move on to something more pleasant, which would be almost anything else.
"With the mist so thick, we should be able to go right up to the bluff the castle's on without being seen from the walls. Maybe we should go look for that secret passage? Might as well use the mist if we're going to be stuck in it."
"Yes, vell done Figny," Emi answers from somewhere nearby. "Ve'll hafe to stay pretty close together though... who vants to go first?"
You wake up slung over some brute's shoulder with little memory of how you got there. To your left, about where your waist is, you hear a gruff, rumbling voice muttering curses and complaints to itself.
"Bugwort get this. Bugwort fetch that. Muhtildah hungry Bugwort, get Muhtildah somefin' to munch an' crunch," it says before going into another overly-long, obscene, and disconcertingly childish curse. All around you, there are just buildings shrouded in mist.
As you set out, you hear the crunch of heavy footfalls on the dry leaves that have begun falling from the trees. Over this steady rhythm you can hear someone murmuring in a deep, growling basso voice.
Vigny stops when Soli stops. She listens, then answers "Dunno. Forward?"
She waves her arm vaguely in the direction they are facing.
Jerukh glowers at the distant sound, trying to discern their nature;
:
The alchemist hefts his cudgel as he follows Vigny...
Unsure how to proceed, and unconvinced that "Dunno. Forward?" was sufficient for a plan, Emi decides to put her feminine charm to work...
"Vhat a handsome foice I hear!" she calls out into the mist, "Vhere are you? Come here so I can see vhat you look like, and so you can see vhat I look like..."
Just as you're wondering how you got here, you hear the enticing voice of a woman. The brute carrying you stops and scratches his head, his incessant mutterings coming to a sudden stop.
"Pretty voice think Bugwort h-han-handsome," he asks into the mist as he tentatively heads in the direction of the voice.
"Pretty voice think Bugwort h-han-handsome," the voice asks as it draws closer.
Bugwort?!? rahat*...
"Vith a name like that you must be handsome," Emi calls back, "follow my foice so I can see just how handsome... and so you can see how beautiful I am..."
Vigny stifles a giggle, Emi's plan is so silly. But it seems to be working....
She readies herself for Bugwort's(!) arrival, keeping her longsword in both her hands. She doubts she'd be able to see well enough to block anything with her tankard anyway.
Jerukh shakes his head at Emi's attempt to beguile what is likely another brutish rogrpříbuzní...
He too readies his darkwood cudgel for when "Bugwort" draws close enough...
It doesn't take long for Bugwort to find Emi's alluring voice. He comes to a stop and scratches his head in confusion as he slow points to each of the four women, oblivious to the weapons pointed at him.
"Which one o' ya is de pretty voice," he asks after a rather long moment.
"You cannot tell from looking at us?" Emi answers coyly.
Emboldened by the new voices added to this already muddled puzzle, Randal seizes the opportunity,
'Help! This fiend has taken me prisoner! he yells, while struggling against his captor.
Bugwort, as it turns out, bears an uncanny resemblance to the recently fled Muhtildah, save that his face, and the rest of him, is covered in warts. He stands nearly eight feet tall and is much more bulky than the other ogrekin was. He's clothed in a hodge-podge of rags and scraps of leather held together with twine and rope. He blinks his dull, beady eyes as he turns around at Randal's voice.
"Huh? Who's dere?"
Randal almost falls on his face as he gets out of the ogrekin's reach. The brute is none to bright and seems to have forgotten that he was carrying him on his shoulder.
what a shame... the poor dolt is almost too dumb to kill, but if any smarter ogrekin happen by he'll quickly be reminded that we're his... enemies, or food, or whatever...
As her companions begin to unleash their attacks against the witless hulk, Emi gracefully moves around behind him while readying her bladed scarf.
After the opening barrage of attacks, Emi reaches out to touch the confused ogrekin, hoping to send him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter...
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"Wasn't my voice."
Vigny goes after the big creep's stomach with a roundhouse swing of her longsword.
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As he tries to get his bearings and take in the confusing surroundings, Randal seems ready to spring to his feet and arm himself.
But, events unfold quickly as one beautiful woman dances her way around his former assailant and another beautiful woman steps up and slashes the ogrekin viciously.
"I must be dreaming," he muses, "for there could be no better way to be rescued....."
As the brute does not suspect the imminent attack, Jerukh shifts forward engaging the monster;
As Vigny brings her blade to bear with vicious effect, the mutagenially enhanced alchemist follows up with his own cudgel;
:
:
"Ow! Quit it! That hurts," the dimwitted brute says before snarling and turning green and ripping the rags about his arms and chest. Strangely the rags around his legs turn purple as well.
Turning and glaring at Jerukh he raises one meaty fist and takes a swing at the cudgel wielding alchemist.
Jerukh ducks out of the way, but barely has time to recover before another fist comes hurtling for his nose.
Once again, Jerukh proves the quicker and dodges the second blow.
Randal stands and begins a rousing speech about the spectacular defeat of the ogre tribes of the north, as if he himself had witnessed it. Urging his newfound allies to rise to greatness,just as the farmers in the story.
Hm, strange new person sure does have a nice sounding voice... I hope he's not another some kind of fey whatsit.
Vigny continues to press her attack, again working the torso of the big brute.
Emi frowns a bit as Bugwort flies into a rage and then gets cut deeply by Vigny again. With a huff of resignation her face hardens and she brings her bladed scarf around to slash at the back of its legs.
With a couple more quick cuts, Bugwort gurgles and begins to sway.
"Bugwort... Sma—*"
With a ponderous thud, he falls face first to the ground.
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"Well, I think I'm all right," Randal says, looking over himself and his gear.
"It's been an incredible few days, that's for sure."
Taking stock of the strange group, he begins to explain.
"Seveal days ago, whilst minding my own business in Sandpoint, I was approached by 4 men of suspect character. Nathan The Large, Edwin Silvertongue, Joseph The Pale and Gregory The Millstone.
I knew these men to be somewhat unsavoury, but they talked of a map to great riches and I have a soft spot for fortunes." he looks over Bugworts corpse as he continues
"As the men slept two nights ago, I took a look at their packs and found this 'map' to be a bar rag from the Rusty Dragon with a crude drawing of the hills outside the town and an X on it with the phrase 'kill Randal here' next to the it."
"Naturally, I helped myself to a few of their belongings and took my leave, only to make camp last night alone and wake up in the arms of that!.
Then, as if still recovering his wits, he says "I'm so sorry for my manners, after you so galantly rescued me, my name is Randal Cupshot, and I am in your debt."
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Vigny looks down at the big ogre-ish guy with surprise.
"Huh. The Lucky Drunk must have really not liked him."
When the former captive tells his story, she turns her attention to him.
"Sandpoint? You're from there? So you're not a satyr or some other fey something are you?"
Vigny tries to get a good look at his legs through the fog, to make sure they're not goat or something else not humanoid.
Somewhat confused by the question, Randal pauses before checking the status of his legs and saying "If I were a satyr, would that be good, or bad?"
Emi giggles as Vigny cranes her neck to examine Randal from the waist down.
she must have been on the road too long to check out his ‘equipment’ so openly...
When Soli questions the man, she smiles. ”No, he is from Sandpoint,” she answers, ”I recognize him from the dragon... he has a gift for telling tales of questionable reliability, and he is not a fery good tipper, but he knows vhat the bottom of a bottle looks like... he probably nefer spent much time at the church...”